Author's notes: This is it. I have the remaining chapters (the novel's climax) as well as the epilogue finished, pending one last edit. To all that have stuck with this story, thank you for your patience. Obi-Wan Kenobi and the Realm of the Lost will be finished by the end of this month, and work on Book III of the Kenobi Trilogy is currently ongoing. To my loyal readers, I greatly appreciate your patronage. Thank you.
Chapter 27
Under Kokeemi Skies
Rahm Kota's surroundings were unfamiliar: he stood inside a long stone hallway, lined with geometric motifs along the edges of its ceiling. An unseen, inexplicable light source of some kind illuminated the area: no one and nothing was visible under the dim light.
What is this place? I've never seen it before...never been here before...
Footsteps caught Kota's attention: he whirled around to see Horn emerge from the edge of the light, holding a sub-repeater. He called out to Horn as he approached.
"Sir!"
Horn nodded in acknowledgement: strangely, he said nothing.
"Sir, where are we?"
"You know where we are, Kota," Horn said. "Our final destination."
Final destination...the Great Tyrant's tomb?
Kota suddenly realized he already knew this: how, he did not know.
It's like a dream...but this is the middle of the day! What's going on here?
A series of loud, metallic footsteps came from opposite Horn: a figure emerged, clad in armor that made Kota's blood run cold.
The Great Tyrant! That's his armor: the legendary besker'kem he wore!
Kota and Horn raised their weapons, firing at the armored figure as he charged forward. The armor easily dissipated the bolts, and the figure ignited a red lightsaber. Kota lowered his carbine, remembering Jaro's prowess with a lightsaber from the battle in Lenrof Tu'ah.
They can block blaster fire with their lightsabers: at this range, they'll throw it right in our faces!
"Sir! Hold your fire!"
Horn fired a burst from his sub-repeater, ignoring Kota. The figure blocked the burst, only for Horn to send another his way. Horn's countenance unnerved Kota: he stood as if in a trance, totally focused on the figure even as his own blaster fire missed him by centimeters.
What's he doing?
The burst bounced off of the figure's lightsaber and struck Horn in the chest.
"SIR," Kota shouted as Horn collapsed. Horn defiantly fired another burst, ignoring Kota: the burst once again rebounded off of the lightsaber and back into Horn. Horn fell to the floor, motionless, as Kota looked on in horror.
"NO!"
The figure now went for Kota: Kota stood frozen in fear as the figure reared back and plunged his lightsaber into Kota's mouth...
Kota flailed backwards onto the ground; scanning his surroundings, he realized he was in his tent, shadows and sounds going across the canvas in the day's light as if nothing had happened.
What was that? Some sort of hallucination? Or was it a vision...can the Force give you visions?
Regaining his senses, he then realized something: he had spent the past week debating Horn's proposition to destroy the artifacts in the Great Tyrant's tomb.
Is what I just experienced part of that? Is it just my mind playing with me? Or is it really the Force, trying to tell me something?
Then, he remembered something else: something he had pushed down for years.
I remember my brothers...I remember days when I had nothing to do, when I suddenly saw these vivid images of battles far away. I saw my brothers...I saw their deaths. I watched them die, and there was nothing I could do about it. Wildy would always calm me down, tell me that they were okay, but each time it happened, they both died. Knowing what I know now, I can't help but wonder: was that the Force, warning me about my brothers' impending deaths? And is it telling me Horn will die unless I help him destroy the artifacts?
Kota laid back on his cot: thinking further, he finally made up his mind.
I'm going to see Horn tonight. I didn't know what I had before: now that I do, I'm not going to lose another brother when I can see it coming.
That evening...
"You wanted to see me, Kota?"
"Yes, sir."
Kota stood in the center of Horn's tent; Horn sat on his cot, looking surprisingly alert.
"Sit down, Kota: there's no need to stand on ceremony here."
"Sir."
Kota sat down next to Horn and gathered himself.
You made the right choice. Know that you did, and go ahead. Just tell him.
"Kota?" Horn asked.
"It's about your...plan, sir," Kota said, nervously turning to Horn.
"Plan?"
"The artifacts, sir: you said you wanted to destroy them."
"I did, yes."
"I'm in, sir," Kota said rapidly. Horn looked at him, bewildered, for several seconds.
"Kota? Are you certain about this? I can't order you to do this, and I'm not going to try and force you into anything. And I don't want you to think otherwise."
Kota paused, and then continued.
"I'll do it. I thought about what you said, and the more I think about it, the more sense it makes. It's too great of a risk to let anybody have those artifacts: even the Jedi."
Horn looked flabbergasted at Kota's reply: quickly, though, he composed himself.
"Very well, then," he said, sounding as if even he were barely certain of his course of action. "I've put a plan together: it's just a rough outline, but the two of us can easily make it into reality..."
One week later...
The first thing Talyon Horn noticed was how utterly peaceful his surroundings were. He was in a clearing on the side of a mountain, very much like the area where he had grown up…before that horrific series of days that somehow he could not now remember even after years of his mind thrusting it before his eyes.
What's going on here? Everything seems so…unnatural!
Looking down at his hands, he noticed his forearms were covered in garish sleeves; sleeves he recognized. A glimpse to the rest of his body confirmed his suspicions: he was dressed in traditional Kokeemi peasants' garb, the kind no Kokeemi peasant ever actually wore outside of a few very specific, and important, life events.
But which one is this?
A glance around only brought more questions: a great crowd was gathered before Horn. Those in the crowd were all civilians, male and female alike, also clad in traditional Kokeemi peasants' garb for their respective sexes. None of their faces were familiar, and not a single man nor woman wore so much as an Auxiliary brassard: it was as if the war had simply vanished into the ether.
The war couldn't have ended, could it? It was only a week ago that we defeated the KDF's Mountain Division and opened the way to Gremp'ka, wasn't it? Something's wrong here…but what is it?
None of the gathered people stood in front of Horn: all stood to his side, watching him intently as if he were a player on a stage.
What the hell is going…
Something moved in Horn's peripheral vision: a slim, petite figure stood to his front, wearing a stark, white dress and a thick veil that concealed its face. Horn's blood ran cold as he immediately recognized the distinctive garment this apparition wore: it was a Kokeemi bride's dress.
That apparition…what does it want? Is it going to marry me? Or someone else? Or does it wish me harm?
Horn clenched his fists in fright as the figure began to walk towards him: a holy man approached from opposite the audience and halted as the apparition advanced. A bird chirped in the background; the sun shone brightly, and a gentle breeze came through, this lovely backdrop providing a horrifying, surreal contrast to Horn's rising terror and the strange figure approaching. Horn tensed for some sort of horrible death: then, he realized he could make out the figure's face underneath the veil as it approached. It was clearly female but initially indistinct; its only distinguishing marks being the bright, colorful flowers placed in its long, golden hair. Cautiously stepping forward, Horn's dread gave way to astonishment as he argued with himself over his growing realizations.
It can't be…it's not her, it can't be…
Now, he stood right in front of the veiled figure; her features now clear as the day around the two as the holy man began speaking. He reached for her, still in denial about this apparent fever dream.
"Siri?"
She raised her head, the sight of her clear, resolute blue eyes confirming Horn's anxieties: her skin soft and inviting against his as she reassuringly took his outstretched hand.
It's Siri. Siri and I are getting married…but how?
"Siri, what are you doing here? The Jedi…you're not allowed…why?"
She put her finger to his lips in response, shooting him a disapproving look under her veil. In the background, the holy man's voice suddenly became distinct.
"Talyon Horn, do you take this woman to be your wife?"
Not knowing what else to say, Horn spoke the dreaded phrase: his lips moving robotically as if some unknown instinct had taken over his brain.
"I do."
"To love, honor, and…"
The ceremony continued on, the two exchanging vows. Looking into Siri's eyes, Horn found her more captivating than he ever had over the months the two had known each other: nerves building as the inevitable culmination of what he had felt for her all these weeks loomed large. Finally, the holy man's voice became distinct again: this time speaking yet another phrase that would change the lives of the man and woman standing before him forever.
"…then I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss your bride."
Horn gently drew back Siri's veil, still unable to process the situation he was in.
What the hell is going on? She's a Jedi: she shouldn't be here at all, and neither should I! How did we…
Siri put her hand to Horn's cheek: her playfully annoyed expression, now on full display, finally broke his defenses.
"You heard him. Just kiss me, you doofus."
Horn hesitated no longer: he gathered Siri into his arms and kissed her, enjoying the sensation of her lips against his as he reached under her raised veil and ran a hand through her silky blonde hair. She returned the passion; pushing herself into the kiss with a soft, barely audible moan as she ran her fingers along his neck. The two kept going, oblivious to the world; only breaking the kiss to breathe. Horn looked to Siri and prepared to kiss her again: then, he spotted movement from the direction of the crowd. He turned along with Siri to meet the source: a man stood before them, clad in tattered Mandalorian armor with a pistol clutched in his hand; disturbingly, the throng watching the wedding was now nowhere to be seen. Horn pulled Siri in and held her close as he realized who the man was: he had seen his blank, masked face on countless FKA propaganda posters and in innumerable intelligence briefings.
Vistro Torsun. The head of the Vampires. A merciless butcher; a most dangerous man indeed.
Horn reached for his pistol, ready to defend his wife. Instead of his holster, however, his hand fell upon air.
I don't have anything! We're defenseless!
Horn prepared to push Siri aside and move between her and Torsun; then, the world went black to the sound of a single, deafening blaster shot.
Horn bolted awake, gasping for air. To his relief, he was in his tent, sitting upright on his cot in a cold sweat as orange early-morning light shone through the tent's opening.
It was a nightmare…it's morning now. It's morning, and I need coffee. And I also need to check on Siri…I don't care if it was just a dream.
Sitting at his desk in the headquarters tent, Horn drummed his fingers as he waited for Kota to arrive with his coffee. Siri stood out in a group of officers and Jedi entering the tent: Horn rose to greet her as the others went off to their places.
"Good morning, Siri."
"Talyon. You sleep well last night?"
"Well enough," Horn said, his gaze avoiding Siri's just a hair too much.
"So you didn't."
"I can bear my own burdens, Siri. Don't worry about me."
"I try not to, Talyon. What happened?"
Before either could say anything further, Kota stepped into the tent, coffee cup in hand.
"Your coffee, sir."
"Thank you…"
"One more thing, sir. Mr. Hoowis told me he has some sort of meeting in his tent in an hour. He needs you there, sir."
Oh, that meeting. I'd nearly forgotten about that.
"Very well. That is all, Kota."
"Yes, sir."
Horn and Kota exchanged salutes, and Kota left the tent as Horn turned back to Siri.
"I'm assuming I'm not invited?"
"Unfortunately not, Siri. Just get to your job: I'll get to mine. We can talk later."
Kota then came back into the tent, narrowly missing Siri as she left.
"One more thing, sir."
"What is it, Kota?"
Kota furtively looked around before turning to Horn.
"Here you go, sir," he said, reaching his hand under Horn's table. Horn looked at Kota quizzically as he felt Kota's hand touch his, until a large, spherical object was pressed into his palm.
"Right. Thank you," Horn said as he took the object. Kota nodded in acknowledgement, and then left the tent as Horn checked his surroundings. Satisfied that no one was watching him, he pocketed the sphere.
Horn stepped into Hoowis' tent: Yelphis, Wildara, and Eno stood next to Hoowis over a table with a holomap of what looked to be Husan's palace and its surroundings.
"Mr. Hoowis, sir. Master Yelphis, Master Cordova, Miss Kota."
"Horn. We've been expecting you; come in."
Horn walked over to the table and turned to Wildara.
"Your ankle, how is it?"
"It's fine, sir. I got a brace for it from the resident surgeon here: he says it should be fully healed in a month or so. I can walk just fine, if that's what you're asking."
Hoowis interjected as Wildara finished her sentence.
"Very well, then; we can discuss your recovery later. Right now, we need to go over our plans."
With that, all eyes went to Hoowis as he began the briefing.
"Our victory over the KDF's Mountain Division last week has eliminated the threat to our siege lines around Kokeem City and dealt the KDF a blow from which it cannot swiftly recover. Our next, and final, move will be an assault on Husan's palace itself. I will lead a select force in a raid on the palace: we will take it by force, and kill Husan. With the loss of its leader, the Kokeemi regime will likely collapse, but our victory is only one objective. Our Jedi allies aim to enter the Pa'an ba Odum, located beneath the palace, and retrieve the Great Tyrant's armor and lightsaber. Once our raiding force has seized the palace, a select group including myself, Horn, Cordova, and other FKA and Jedi personnel will enter the tomb via the palace. While held captive a number of weeks ago, Kenobi and Tachi managed to find an entrance into the tomb, via the Vampires' dungeons. In all likelihood, that entrance is still open and is currently being used."
Eno looked up with a furrowed brow: Wildara shared a nod with Hoowis, and then took over.
"Husan is well aware of what he's got underneath his feet: from what I've been able to piece together, the KDF has been going insane trying to get to that sarcophagus. I've seen reports of large numbers of the KDF's Engineer Corps being deployed to the palace, without much indication as to the reason why. The only logical conclusion is that they're trying to force their way into the burial chamber. Master Cordova, you said that Obi-Wan and Siri have the key to the chamber, right?"
"I did. I currently have it now: my apprentice keeps it in a safe under constant guard by various Jedi and hand-picked members of the FKA. We'll bring it along for the mission, but I don't want it brought into the palace until the area is secure."
Yes, and my hand was one of those that picked those guards. Naturally, I made sure to get whatever information I could out of them about the key. I asked the Jedi some more questions as well: as the FKA's second-in-command, it's only natural for me to want to know the details of such an important part of our plans, isn't it?
"Can I examine it later, Master Cordova?"
Eno looked at Horn somewhat suspiciously, but his tone carried no hint of serious doubt; much to Horn's relief.
"If you want to, Horn."
"Very well, then. Do you have that exploration unit that you told me about?"
"Cere has it under lock and key. I can't promise anything, though: it's experimental. Technically, what we're about to do is a field trial. She's running system tests and constant maintenance on it now, but it's never been used in an actual archaeological mission."
"Well, if it's any bit as good as you say it is, it should be a great help to us."
Pausing, Wildara then took over; this time, she seemed less certain of herself.
"Whatever the case, that palace will be crawling with KDF trying to get into the tomb. Do you think they've already found a way in, Master Cordova? You know more about how these old tombs are set up than I do."
"In all likelihood, no," replied Eno. "These Sith tombs have all manner of countermeasures designed to prevent just what the KDF is trying to do. If there is one intended way into the burial chamber, it's likely that it's the only way in."
"That's weird," Wildara said, looking away from Eno and touching her chin.
"How so?"
"Ever since that redeployment spike in numbers a month ago, back when Husan would have discovered the tomb, I've seen casualty reports and constant requests for replacement engineers. Whatever that warlock put in there, it must be pretty deadly to cause those sorts of casualties."
"Yes. And if they're simply throwing men at the problem, all they'll get are more casualties. Still, we can't let them keep going: eventually, they may very well find a way in."
Having watched the conversation like a tennis match, Hoowis finally spoke again.
"They won't. We'll see to that: every last one of us. In the meantime, though, we need a staging area for this final assault. Fortunately, there's a perfect one just nearby."
Hoowis pressed a few buttons, pulling up an image of a small mountain village.
"This is Kerhob, a village in Soder'da Province along the river of the same name. Horn and I are already acquainted with it: for those of you that aren't, it's extremely close to Husan's palace, and firmly supports our cause. We're going there tomorrow: we will establish a headquarters there, and then plan the raid. We don't have a day marked yet, but expect it to occur before the end of the week. Until then, pack your things: we're going to the mountains."
Later that day...
Eno's tent was one of the largest in camp: standing inside it only showed why. Its interior was divided into several separate "rooms," each little more than a portion blocked off by a canvas wall and a foldable cover. Eno himself stood in its atrium, his desk behind him.
"Horn," he said as Horn entered. "This way."
Eno led Horn through one of the flaps, past two men in FKA fatigues clutching sub-repeaters. This room was simple: it lay barren except for a crude light hanging from the ceiling and a large, heavily-built pedestal at its center, upon which sat a safe. Eno knelt over the safe's lock and began opening it, while Horn fished through his pocket until the fake key brushed against his hand. He took the key and pulled his hand from his pocket as Eno opened the safe.
You have one chance: don't cock this up.
"Here you go, Horn," Eno said as he held up the key. Horn took the key in hand, his other clutching the fake.
Make it quick, and be glad this area has such poor lighting.
Horn held up the orb, examining it briefly as he primed his thumb on the crude light switch built into the fake. Then, he pounced: he lowered his hand, keeping his eyes on the orb as if he were still examining it. Then, in an instant, he pressed the switch on the fake and passed it into his right hand, letting the real key slide into his now-empty left. He carried his hand to his side and opened his fingers: mercifully, the real key slid straight into his pocket. Now, Eno looked at the fake, his expression saying he was none the wiser.
"That's all, Master Cordova. I just wanted to examine the key," Horn said.
"Glad I could be of assistance, Horn," Eno replied as he placed the fake inside the safe. With Eno's back once again turned, Horn shut his eyes and took as silent of a deep breath as he could.
It's done.
The following afternoon…
Stepping off the shuttle with Kota at his side, Horn took in the surroundings of Kerhob once more, the mountain air filling his lungs. Behind him, a large lake stretched out towards the mountains, which rose up from there into the clear midday sky.
This place, it reminds me so much of home. I remember when I was a boy, playing on the edge of a cliff near my family's house, waving a stick around as if it were a rifle. The war was so distant then: it feels just as long off now, whenever I breathe in that air.
As he continued to take in his surroundings, Horn's mind turned to a darker place: to the events that had led him to Hoowis and the FKA, and ended his childhood before its time was due…
Ten years earlier…
Talyon Horn emerged from the bushes to a horrifying sight: his house was aflame, and both his parents were on their knees in front of a group of armed men in combat fatigues as others watched the house burn. His mother turned and looked right at him.
"MOTHER! FATHER!" Talyon shouted.
His mother's eyes widened, and she shouted to him.
"RUN, TALYON! RUN!"
Time seemed to slow down as some of the men aimed rifles at his parents' heads: Talyon watched in horror as they fired. Both his parents fell lifelessly to the ground, their heads raggedly blown apart, as Talyon let out a bloodcurdling scream.
"NOOOOOOOOO!"
One of the armed men pointed at the boy and shouted, gesturing for several of his fellows to follow.
"Get him! Get that kid!"
As the men ran towards him, Talyon turned and fled, the heat of blaster bolts passing over him. He sprinted away into the bushes, following the mountain paths he knew by heart…
Talyon finally stopped and curled into a fetal position against a rock, totally oblivious to his surroundings. As his adrenaline wore off, he began wailing and crying uncontrollably.
Mother…Father…they're gone…they're dead…those men killed them…
Suddenly, he was wrapped in strong arms, and a hand clamped over his mouth. He kicked and scratched and bit, hearing a harsh obscenity in Kokeemi as the figure let go. Talyon grabbed a rock, ready to cave in his attacker's head, and laid eyes on his attacker for the first time. The figure was a man, dressed like the rebels that had come to his family's home on that chaotic night weeks earlier; he had weathered skin, sun-bleached blond hair, and harsh blue eyes. Talyon growled at the man in Kokeemi as he brandished the rock.
"Get back! I'll kill you!"
"Calm down, lad, calm down," the man replied in Kokeemi.
"GET BACK!"
"Listen! I'm not going to hurt you!"
Suddenly, inexplicably curious as to who the man was and why he was here, Talyon lowered the rock.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Do you remember the men that came to your family's house several weeks ago? Your father treated one of them."
"Yes."
"The KDF found out what happened. We came to warn your family: where are they? Did the KDF take them away?"
"They're dead. They're dead! Some men in army uniforms came and shot them! They're dead!"
"Damn it all. The KDF came here first," the man said as he looked out past Talyon.
"Are you one of the rebels?"
"Yes, I'm with the FKA. Come here, lad. I won't hurt you."
Talyon cautiously approached the man: others dressed like him appeared on the trail behind, carrying various weapons. The man knelt down in front of Talyon, holding his hand out in greeting.
"I'm Sharf Hoowis. What's your name, son?"
"Talyon, sir. Talyon Horn."
Talyon began to cry again as the man hugged him.
"There, there, lad. You're safe now."
"My parents…My whole family's gone, Mister Hoowis…"
"It's all right, Talyon. It's all right."
A voice came from behind Hoowis, likely from one of his companions.
"Sir! The KDF are probably still up there: we can catch those sons of bitches while they're looting that villa!"
Talyon began to cry harder, and Hoowis tightened his embrace in response.
"There, I've got you, son. Don't cry. I'm here."
Talyon's crying slowly subsided: for some inexplicable reason, he felt safe with this strange man he had only known for a few minutes but was now his only friend left in the world. He left the embrace and looked up at Hoowis as he wiped a tear from Talyon's cheek.
"Now, son: we're going after the men that killed your parents. I'm going to give you a blaster: stay here, and don't do anything. I'll be back for you. Do you understand me?"
"Sir…"
"Stay here. You'll be safe, and I WILL come back for you: you have my word. Just trust me, all right?"
"Yes…yes, Mister Hoowis."
"Good lad. Here you go."
Hoowis handed Talyon a large blaster pistol: Talyon could barely hold it up.
"Just stay here. I'll be back."
Present day…
"Sir?"
Horn whirled around: Kota recoiled at his commander's sudden reaction.
"Are you all right, sir?" Kota asked, his eyes cast down.
"I'm fine, Kota. Just reminiscing about old times, that's all."
"Mr. Hoowis says you should see him, sir. He says he's got a small house set aside just for you, and he wants to show you there."
"Very well, then. With me, Kota."
"Yes, sir."
Hoowis gestured to Horn from atop a nearby slope. Horn started towards him, pushing the memories away as he tried to think of his duties as a leader.
This isn't the time to let your demons haunt you: Kota and the men need to see you strong and composed! Pull yourself together, damn you!
That evening…
Standing around a table as the sunset silhouetted dust floating across the massive room, Horn and Hoowis went over a holomap of the Gremp'ka Valley, going through the motions of the assault on Husan's palace. The mayor of Kerhob had loaned part of his house to Hoowis: a large villa, complete with a conference room perfect for planning sessions as well as a beautiful view of the Soder'das and surprisingly spacious guest bedrooms, ostensibly for official visitors and the use of which Hoowis had been granted.
Well, I suppose this is an official visit of sorts, only we're not some of Husan's lackeys come to collect a "favor" or intimidate the locals.
"So, we'll come up through this valley, in the shuttles. I've had our ground crews, with help from the Jedi, arm them with light blaster cannons. They won't be able to fight a company of tanks, but they'll be adequate enough to provide supporting fire. And we'll have the gunships, as well as Wolverine."
"Are you sure she's up to the task, sir?"
"I am, Horn. Rednirev and Harvel both say she's able to do an attack in atmosphere. Once this war is over, we'll have all the time in the world to fully repair her. All we need is a gun platform, and a place from which to launch our shuttles. Now, if you'll excuse me."
Hoowis went back to the map, Horn watching his every move and pointedly keeping his mouth shut.
"The first shuttle will pick us up early in the morning, and rendezvous with Wolverine as she approaches: the second shuttle will already be aboard. Once we reach the launch point, we will launch the shuttles and then split them up. Wolverine will go in her own direction: having multiple signatures going in different directions will confuse the KDF's sensor operators as to what our intentions are or where our final destination is. The shuttles will weave through the mountain passes as well, using the terrain to mask their signatures. Their courses and speed, along with that of Wolverine and the gunships, are all calculated so that they will converge within striking distance of Husan's palace at the same time. Once that occurs, they will commence their attack. The shuttles will come in under cover from the gunships and Wolverine, landing on the palace's main landing pad, here. The pad is heavily defended, but between our gunships and Wolverine we should be able to destroy those defenses before our ground forces even land."
"The palace, though, sir…they'll lock it down once they realize what's happening."
"Aye, and it won't save them. I'll have Wolverine fire her main battery at the palace doors."
"Sir?" Horn asked, his eyes flying wide open.
"It'll be quite the display, but it will open the way into the palace. Once inside, our primary target is Husan's throne room. We find him, we kill him, and then we regroup and set to helping the Jedi find their elusive prize."
"What opposition are we expecting, sir?"
"Vampires, in all likelihood. As you know, they're Husan's personal guards as well as his secret police, and we expect the force defending the palace to be entirely theirs. They'll be ready and well-armed, as always, and we're now fighting on their territory. They know the war is over, and they know after all they've done to our people that they will see no mercy in the peace. And I don't intend to show them any."
"Nor do I, sir."
At this, Hoowis stood up and faced Horn squarely.
"That's the spirit, lad. No matter how savagely they fight, they won't stop the inevitable. Once we win here, the war is over."
And then what?
Horn restrained himself from asking the question. He gulped ever so slightly, but that alone was enough to catch the attention of his father figure.
"What's the matter, Horn?"
"Nothing, sir. It's just…I don't know. It's such a momentous occasion, the end of the war."
"I know. Many things will change, Talyon, many things. But I know one thing that will never change about you."
"What is that?"
Hoowis stepped out from around the table and walked in front of Horn, his eyes meeting Horn's.
"You're destined for great things, Talyon. You've grown into a fine young man. I remember how you came into the fold, all you experienced. And despite all of it, you've grown so much. A lesser man would have crumbled under the pressures you've experienced, and I'm proud to say you haven't."
Horn was speechless as Hoowis spoke: he held back tears as he contemplated his surrogate father's words.
He's hard, and unforgiving: he always has been. He never speaks like this, especially not to me. And yet, here he is, complementing me in ways he never has before. Still, I don't feel ready for "great things." He might think I am, but I don't know how I'll perform once peace breaks out. It's ironic, when I think about it: war made me an orphan, but it also made me a man, and a man with a purpose at that. What will I do when that purpose disappears, as it will by the end of this week?
A knocking at the room's door abruptly ended the unexpected, tender moment.
"Enter!" said Hoowis.
Wildara stepped into the room, walking as briskly as her ankle brace allowed. Free from the constraints of undercover work, she now wore a holster with a large blaster pistol as well as the Auxiliary brassard, and carried a brown leather case under her arm.
"Mr. Hoowis, sir. I have those reports on the palace, as you requested. I can go over them with you if…"
"We'll deal with it tomorrow, Miss Kota. Right now, you and Horn have the night off."
Both Wildara and Horn stared at Hoowis incredulously: Hoowis simply smirked at them.
"Everyone has performed well over the past several weeks: we have a brief night to rest on our laurels, and we will do precisely that. We'll have plenty more work in the coming days, mark my words. Right now, you both have the night off, along with everyone else. Leave that case with me, Miss Kota: you and I will go over its contents at 0900 tomorrow."
"Sir, my brother…I mean, Private Kota…is he included in this as well?"
"He is. Horn, he's your man: you tell him."
"Understood, sir."
"That will be all, then. Go out and enjoy yourselves: we have some minor festivities planned."
"Yes, Mr. Hoowis."
"Yes, sir."
Wildara left her case on the table as Horn started for the exit: as the two prepared to leave, however, Hoowis shouted after them.
"Horn!"
"Sir?"
"Stay here for a while: there's something we need to discuss."
"Sir," Horn said, halting. Hoowis turned to Wildara as she stood next to Horn, a quizzical expression on her face.
"Miss Kota, leave us, please."
"Yes, sir."
Wildara left the room, shutting the door behind her as Hoowis approached Horn.
"Talyon, I wanted to speak to you about something."
"Sir…"
"Drop the formalities, Talyon. I'm not speaking to you as your commanding officer for now: I'm speaking to you as a man."
"About what?"
Hoowis stepped closer as Horn stiffened, ready for some sort of lecture over some forgotten transgression.
"There's no need to worry: you're not in any trouble, Talyon. I just wanted to tell you something."
"And what is that?"
Hoowis took a deep breath and swallowed, briefly lowering his eyes.
"This war is going to end soon. You and I both know that. And with that, the Jedi will leave. Go back to Coruscant, or wherever they all live."
"Yes. And I think we'll all be sad to see them go."
"And you in particular will be, at least in one instance."
"What are you talking about?"
Siri? Is he really going to ask me about Siri?
"You know who I'm referring to, Talyon."
"If this is about Siri, I…"
"This is between us, Talyon. Man to man, like I said."
Hoowis' expression was paternal, understanding, even, as he said this; his tone carried not even the slightest hint of reproach.
"Yes, I have feelings for her, and I know they're reciprocated," replied Horn.
"I know as well, Talyon. Does she?"
"Yes."
"Have you told her?"
"Told her?"
"Have you told her how you feel about her?"
"I don't need to; she knows."
Hoowis paused, looking down for a moment, and then put his hand on Horn's shoulder.
"I know what you're thinking, Talyon. You think you don't need to tell her. But heed my advice: tell her. Tell her what lays on your heart. You may not think much of it now, but I know you will regret not doing so after she leaves. She will leave once this ends, Talyon. She will leave your life, and go back to her own. And that memory of what went unsaid will haunt you for the rest of your days."
Hoowis' cold blue eyes were now warmer than Horn had ever seen: his face formed the slightest hint of a proud smile.
"Why are you saying this?"
"Because I know what not saying that feels like, Talyon. I know that regret, from long ago when I wasn't much older than you are now. And some nights, when I think of it, it still eats at my soul."
Horn and Hoowis stood there, silently, for what seemed like hours as they searched for and failed to find any more words to match the moment. Then, Hoowis squeezed Horn's shoulder, openly smiling at him for the first time that day.
"Go, Talyon. Enjoy your night off, and whatever you do, remember my advice."
Horn smiled back: his eyes glowing with pride at his father figure's words.
"Yes, sir."
Later that night…
As he stood around a bonfire in the center of town, Obi-Wan took in the celebration around him. Cere sat near the center of the group, playing a seven-string hallikset as a group of FKA soldiers cheered and danced along between swigs of alcohol. Most of the other faces around the campfire were unfamiliar: various FKA soldiers, and the occasional Jedi, taking swigs of alcohol, dancing, and laughing wildly: however, Obi-Wan was able to pick out some familiar faces amongst the crowd. Wildara sat with Jaro at the edge of the fire's light: she had her hair down, and occasionally turned to Jaro to offer some inaudible comment or make some gestures with a mock serious expression; all frequently followed by shared, raucous laughter and even rare mutual glances that made Obi-Wan raise his eyebrow.
They seem to be getting along well…possibly too well.
Rahm, however, made his older sister's somewhat flirtatious interactions with Jaro look chaste: he had picked up an admirer earlier that evening, a rather shapely brunette with bright teal eyes that had taken a shine to the gallant young soldier now in her midst. The two had only gotten more and more overt as the night went on, and now she was practically sitting in Rahm's lap. She whispered something in his ear, eliciting a massive, nervous grin from Rahm. A few moments later, the two stood up and strolled off into the darkness, arm in arm.
Let him have his pleasure: he's young, and he's not a Jedi yet. He'll have more than enough time for celibacy when he gets to the Temple. Or, at least, if he gets there.
Obi-Wan sensed a nearby Force presence: he barely had time to turn before Siri emerged from the darkness and thrust a bottle into his hands.
"Drink?"
"Possibly."
"Come on, you look like you need one. Hell, you always look like you need one."
Sighing, Obi-Wan took a sip from the bottle before handing it back to Siri, who followed suit.
"Looks like Wilds and Big Boy are getting along well."
"You haven't seen Rahm, then."
"That girl that's been on his arm the whole night?"
"Yes. And they've since wandered off to places unknown."
"Well, let's hope they don't get into too much trouble," Siri said with a laugh. "At least Cere's got the music going: I forgot she could play that well."
"Well or not, I would imagine the audience is too drunk to care. And if they aren't now, they will be before they fall asleep."
"Hey, at least we get a load off. We've been going like crazy people the past few weeks."
"Yes, I'm sure we all appreciate the respite."
"At least some of us do, Stodgy-Wan," Siri said, giving Obi-Wan a playful shove. "You've never been a party person."
Obi-Wan looked at Siri, his only reply a grin.
"And for once, the great Obi-Wan Kenobi is at a loss for words."
"And there's only one person that can bring him to that state."
"You sure about that?"
"Without any doubt," Obi-Wan said with mock seriousness. Siri chuckled in response before turning back to the party, her expression turning grim.
"It's certainly a more festive atmosphere than when we first got here," she said.
"Yes. And I'm glad it is," Obi-Wan replied.
"Me too."
The two leaned into one another for a few precious moments, Obi-Wan putting his arm around Siri as she nuzzled against him.
"I'm just glad we're leaving soon, Obie."
You may be glad…I don't know what I am. I have only one way out: right through Vistro Torsun.
Holding Siri close for a few more seconds, Obi-Wan then reluctantly let her go.
"I'm heading to bed, Siri. Sleep well."
She looked up at him tenderly, taking his hand.
"You too, Obie."
She released his hand, and the two once again went their separate ways. As he walked off towards his quarters, Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as the sight of the mountains silhouetted against the bright light of the moon reminded him of another night much like this…
Two years earlier…
Obi-Wan assumed a meditative position as a cool night breeze soothed his skin. Closing his eyes, he let the sensations of the Living Force from the surrounding Draboonian forest fill his senses, before nearby footsteps broke his concentration. He turned and carried his hand to his lightsaber: to his relief, it was Satine, dressed in her hiking clothes with her hair in a messy bun.
"Your Grace?" asked Obi-Wan, lowering his hand.
"Oh, hello, Ben," replied Satine, waving to him.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I'm just enjoying the night air. Might I sit with you?"
Obi-Wan looked at Satine somewhat quizzically; she widened her eyes and pouted slightly at this, and his defenses completely collapsed.
"Please, I would enjoy your company, Ben," she pleaded.
"Go ahead, then. Have a seat," Obi-Wan said as he stifled a sigh.
Satine sat down next to Obi-Wan, stretching out her legs and yawning.
"So, what did Qui-Gon say to you earlier? From what I overheard, it seems like things on Mandalore are stabilizing."
"Somewhat, yes. But it's still too dangerous for any of us to be seen in public. Thankfully, the Death Watch seems to have abandoned the bulk of its search efforts after the death of Torsun."
"Good. I want to get back to my people, Ben. They need to know I am their leader and not these Death Watch thugs: while I'm skulking about here on Draboon, they might as well be."
"I can't snap my fingers and make it safe to return, Satine. Neither can Qui-Gon, and neither can you. You and I both know that."
Satine grew increasingly agitated at Obi-Wan's words: she turned to look at him, her face tightened into an angry grimace.
"I've seen today's date: you and Qui-Gon have been with me for almost a year! This can't go on forever!"
"It won't, Satine."
Satine didn't calm down: she turned back to the tranquil nighttime vista, tears slowly sparkling in her eyes.
"I want to go back, Ben. I want to rebuild. I was born into nothing but destruction: my earliest memories are of the war between Mareel and Vizsla. That was all I knew: just death and bloodshed and violence. Mareel's death did nothing; Galidraan did nothing; Viszla's disappearance did nothing. Nothing changed: my clan tried to take over, tried to use the apparent collapse of the warmongers as a stepping stone to power. We didn't want to subjugate anyone: we just wanted peace, Ben. We just wanted to build a better future. We wanted to build: everyone else just wanted to destroy. It cost my father his life: they destroyed him as well. Viszla's men shot him like a dog: ambushed his motorcade and tore it apart with grenades, rockets, and blasters. All he wanted to do was help our people rise above those horrible old ways, and they killed him for it without a second thought. All I want to do is go back and rebuild. Help rebuild our society now that the Death Watch is on the wane. I'm sick of this, Ben! I'm sick of it!"
Now, Satine was openly weeping: Obi-Wan put his arm around her, and she leaned into him, sobbing into his chest.
"I'm sick of this, Ben. And nights like tonight only remind me of it. It's so peaceful out here: you would never think we were on the run. And yet I can still see the day you killed Torsun, right here on Draboon. I see it every night in my dreams: every awful moment of it. I just want to go back home and do good, not keep hiding here while people continue to die."
She continued to cry as Obi-Wan held her close, unable to say anything adequate for the occasion.
I wish I could say something, but I can't. All I have to offer her is myself, and my presence.
"Oh, Ben…stay. Please stay, with Qui-Gon, and help me rebuild."
"Satine, I don't know what we're going to do once we get back to Mandalore. In all likelihood, I won't be able to. The Jedi are always in demand in countless trouble spots across the galaxy, and we can't stay here forever. What you're doing is incredibly noble, though: I admire it."
Satine now looked up at Obi-Wan, her eyes red. As a voice in the back of his head tried in vain to stifle his instincts, Obi-Wan reached to her cheek and wiped away her tears.
"I admire your courage, your strength, your determination…you're a worthy ruler indeed. Your father would be proud of you, and I'm sure you'll rebuild Mandalore into something incredible."
For the first time, she smiled at him, putting her hand on his cheek. The scolding voice in his head grew, but he forced it down.
"You really think so?"
"I know so, Satine. And wherever I go, I'm glad to have known you."
She said nothing in response: her expression softened and her eyes began to close as the voice in Obi-Wan's head grew to a screech.
A Jedi shall not know love…A Jedi shall not know love…
A sudden, masculine instinct overtook him: then, he threw himself down upon her and kissed her mouth, pinning her writhing form underneath his as the voice in his head abruptly stopped. She looked up at him sensually as they broke the kiss.
"Satine…"
"Ben, I…want you…do you know what I mean?"
"Is there somewhere more private nearby?" he said, the thickness of his voice unnerving him.
"There's a cave…follow me."
Obi-Wan followed Satine as she glided across the ground, leading him to the mouth of a cave. He now ran on instinct: his Jedi training making him loathe what his body was now dragging him towards.
I want her too…whatever I was trained, to hell with it all. I want her…I want every little piece of her, and I will get it tonight.
"No venom-mites in here, I trust?" he asked as the two reached the cave.
"I hope not," she replied, laughing. Then, she removed her shirt, Obi-Wan gulping before following suit. His heart raced as he hungrily watched her undress: soon, she was naked except for her hairband, which she then removed and flung away. With a flick of her head, her blonde tresses hung loose around her face: she managed a shy, demure turn around, showing off every part of herself as her porcelain skin glowed under the moonlight. As she finished the turn, she looked into his eyes, her expression still uncertain.
"Gobsmacked," was all Obi-Wan found himself able to say after several seconds of silence.
Obi-Wan tore off his trousers, boots, and undergarments faster than he had ever remembered: all he wanted now was her, to take her, to bend her body under his own and feel it give way, to hear her cries of pleasure in the darkness. He ran to her, briefly pausing to look into her eyes and savor the moment: they glowed a clear, beautiful blue under the moonlight.
Come on, why are you waiting any longer?
He kissed her: she wrapped her bare legs around his torso in response, and he pushed her back into the cave, breaking the kiss as he took her to the ground. Satine obediently tilted her head back, Obi-Wan kissing her throat as she cried out in ecstasy.
And I'm just getting started…
Present day…
Standing at the edge of the group gathered around the fire, Siri yawned for the second time in as many minutes.
Okay, I think I should go to bed now.
As she rose and walked away, though, a familiar figure approached from the darkness.
"Siri."
"Hello, Tal."
"Are you tired already?"
"Yeah. It was a swell party we had: you would have liked it. I'm just going to bed now…"
"Would you care to walk with me for a while?" Horn asked.
"Walk with you?"
"Yes, Siri. I'd enjoy your company."
As she briefly thought through her options, something in Siri's mind told her to take up Horn on his offer.
"Sure, why not," she said, shrugging her shoulders.
The two set off down a nearby pathway, Siri thinking of something to say to break the silence: she knew Horn was doing the same.
"So, how have you been?" Horn asked; Siri cursed herself for thinking so slowly.
"Trying to stay busy. And mostly succeeding," she replied. Horn chuckled slightly in response.
"Well, you won't have much longer. By the end of the week, you'll have your elusive artifacts."
"Yeah…"
"Is something wrong, Siri?"
"I'm just thinking."
"About?"
She stopped, realizing that she didn't know what to say. She paused to let her mind catch up with her mouth, and then turned to Horn.
"I've just been here for what feels like forever: I wasn't supposed to be here this long. None of us were, and we certainly weren't supposed to bring such a huge chunk of the Jedi Order along with us."
"Well, we appreciate your assistance, nonetheless."
As the awkward silence descended once more and a gentle night breeze rustled the trees, Siri noticed Horn looking around, his eyes off in some distant place: she instinctively put her hand on his arm.
"Talyon?"
His eyes remained distant: now locked on the night sky.
"This place reminds me of home, Siri. I was born and, for the longest time, raised in a mountain village much like this."
Hoping to defuse whatever painful memory was now playing in Horn's mind, Siri moved in closer.
"You never told me about where you were from, Tal. How did you end up here?"
"Here?"
"I mean, with the FKA."
Horn grimaced for the briefest moment: Siri immediately felt guilty as she saw his face contort.
I just made it worse…
Before she could apologize, though, Horn turned to her.
"My father was a doctor, of all things. We lived well: we had a large house with a beautiful view. He even had his surgery in one of our rooms."
"A doctor?" Siri said, unable to stifle a laugh. Horn glared at her as if she had insulted him.
"He's the reason I'm here, Siri."
"He sent you?"
"No, Siri."
Horn cleared his throat, his face contorting again. Siri thought she saw the slightest hint of a tear in his eye, before he composed himself once more.
"One night, when I was thirteen, the FKA came to my family's home. I still remember it…a group of armed men, standing in front of my house as my father went out to confront them. One of their number had been wounded: none of us ever learned how. Somehow, they knew my father was a doctor, and he must have been the easiest one to reach."
"Was your father affiliated with the FKA?"
"No, Siri. We knew who they were: we didn't want any part of the war. We wanted to let the war alone…but the war would not let us alone."
He continued, somehow maintaining his composure as Siri's heart sank.
"He was a doctor, Siri, and that man was going to die unless he received medical attention. He was ethically bound to treat that man: indeed, he would have been ethically bound to do the same for a member of the KDF. He didn't even want to do it: the leader of the FKA men had to threaten him before he finally gave in."
"And then?" Siri asked, almost whimpering as she realized how this story ended.
"The KDF found out. I don't know how: a neighbor must have told them. We never found out, for the record: all I know is that I went out one day to play, and I came back to see my parents held at gunpoint as KDF soldiers ransacked our house."
Horn paused again; gathering himself but now unable to prevent a single tear from escaping his eye. Siri took his hand and held it tightly, and he continued.
"I saw them shoot my parents, and then I ran."
"And then what?"
"I ran into an FKA patrol: I learned later that they knew of the KDF's impending attack on my family's home. They were coming to warn us, but they arrived too late: I was all there was. The leader of that patrol was none other than Sharf Hoowis."
"So, that's how you met him, then?"
"Yes. I…told him what happened, and then we left the area. He took me in, and I watched as he ascended to command of the FKA. When I was seventeen, he put me in charge of a raid to capture the Wolverine, back when she was a KDF vessel. We succeeded, and I became his heir apparent as a result."
Siri stared at Horn, unsure of how to respond.
"I…I'm sorry, Talyon. You never said any of this before."
"And I wouldn't have, until now. But I trust you now, Siri. I've spent months with you here. And I…I appreciate your sympathy."
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. She looked into his eyes, the Jedi voice in the back of her mind reprimanding her as she blushed.
Don't…you can't love him, you can't enjoy that…
Able to think of nothing other than to change the subject, Siri addressed Horn in the perkiest voice she could manage as she lowered her hand and gently withdrew it from his.
"So, what happens after all this?"
"After?"
"Come on, you said it earlier. The war's going to end soon: what's in store for you then?"
Horn looked away for a brief moment, his eyes darting about.
"Well, Mr. Hoowis will likely be in charge of whatever government we establish. He and I have spoken, though, about making me ambassador to Coruscant. Kokeem will never join the Republic, at least not for the foreseeable future, but we'll at least try to establish cordial relations."
"Ambassador? That's interesting."
"Still, it's only preparation. One day, I will be ruler of Kokeem, once Hoowis retires from public life."
Horn finally continued walking down the path, Siri remaining at his side.
"So, you're going to Coruscant once this is finished. That's definitely a change of scenery," she said.
"I know that much, Siri. What's it like there? You've spent your whole life there, after all."
"It's like nothing you've seen before…it's as if someone crammed the entire galaxy into a giant city and made a planet out of it. And then built and rebuilt that city again and again and again for thousands of years. Bright lights, speeders everywhere…it's not Kokeem, that much is for sure."
"It sounds like a wild, confusing place. What do you think of it?"
"I mean, I like it. I'm just a city person, I guess. Sometimes, we'll go out: my friends and I over at the Temple. Go eat, get a drink or two, go to the movies, maybe shop."
"Well, you sound like you know Coruscant well, at least. Maybe the two of us could go on walks like this: you could show me round. Knowing you, I'm sure I wouldn't get lost."
As Siri laughed at Horn's words, the Jedi in her finally took over.
No. I can't let this continue. And I can't disappoint him: I care about him too much. I have to set boundaries.
Siri stopped, turning to look at Horn.
"Talyon…"
"What, Siri?"
"I…listen. You and I…when I get back…we have to leave each other behind."
Horn's face contorted painfully: his voice was incredulous as he replied.
"You're saying we can't see each other after this is over?"
"Talyon…I love you, alright? I love you, but I can't. I'm a Jedi: I'm not allowed. I love you, though, and I don't want to hurt you. I'm setting boundaries here, and I'm telling you because you deserve to know. Because I care about you."
Siri couldn't read Horn's face: he was full of so many emotions that she couldn't make heads or tails of what he was thinking or what his response would be. She embraced him, burying her head in his chest and trying not to cry. He embraced her in return, bending down and kissing the top of her head. He looked out into the darkness; she sensed a pang of worry in him.
"To tell you the truth, Siri, I'm worried. You're a Jedi: you would never understand this, but this war has given me meaning. Every day, I fight, I kill, I try to survive. It gives my life meaning, Siri: it's the only meaning I have. And I fear what will happen once that meaning ceases to be."
Horn continued to hold Siri close, taking in the sensation of her body against his. Then, out of his peripheral vision, he saw a nearby bush with its flowers in bloom. Reaching over, he took a blossom as Siri looked up at him. He tucked it behind her ear: she smiled somewhat nervously in response. Smiling back, he carried his hands to her face and pushed her hair behind her ears. He looked into Siri's eyes: they darkened, as they had at the well. Horn leaned down towards her: in the next moment, he kissed her, more fully and sensually than before, holding her close as she returned the kiss with equal passion. For a moment, he was back in his dream, at the bizarre wedding he now knew would never happen. For now, though, he would have her: if only for one night. As the two broke the kiss, Siri looked up at Horn: her once languid blue eyes now a deep indigo and burning with animal passion.
"Okay, soldier boy."
She threw herself at him, devouring his lips with such fury that he initially recoiled before returning the kiss. All gave way to instinct as he pushed her against a nearby tree, continuing to kiss her. Panting sensually, she threw her head back as he kissed her throat: Horn almost jumped as her teeth dug into his earlobe.
"You wild little minx, you…"
"Talyon…you have a place here, don't you?"
Horn shut the door to his room: Siri waited for him at the edge of his bed, her jacket already tossed to the floor. He wasted no time: he set about removing her shirt as she did the same to him. Slowly, the two undressed each other, savoring the moment and eagerly anticipating what was to come. As they finished, Horn looked down at Siri, admiring her naked body for the first time as memories of their first encounter played in his mind.
She's beautiful…I remember holding her at gunpoint on the ship's bridge as Hoowis threatened Obi-Wan with a knife. I never would have expected this in our future.
She ran her hand along his face, tracing the line of his jaw: with her other, she unexpectedly gave his bare buttocks a squeeze, eliciting a startled cry.
"Siri!"
"Hey, I'm just reminding you it's me you're looking at."
"Come here, you…"
He pushed her onto the bed, delighting in the sensation of her lips against his and her bare breasts against his chest as she wrapped her legs around him.
I'll make this a night she'll never forget...
Ten years ago...
Talyon sat crouched behind the rocks, gripping the pistol tightly as blaster fire and screaming echoed from the cliff above, where his family's home was.
Good…they're killing the men who killed Mother and Father.
Minutes passed: minutes that felt like hours as he wondered if Hoowis was alive amidst the sounds of battle above.
He has to come for me! He has to!
Then, the sound of someone scrambling down the pathway came towards Talyon. He stepped out from behind the rock, holding the pistol at the ready. Soon, the source of the noise came into view: it was a man, wearing the same combat fatigues as the men that had ransacked the villa.
He's with the army…he must have been one of the ones that killed Mother and Father.
The man looked to be no older than his early twenties: his face was white as a sheet, his eyes wide with primal terror. He had no weapons: presumably, he had discarded them during his flight down the pathway. As he saw the armed thirteen-year-old boy standing in his path, the man jumped back with a startled shriek, clawing his way back up the path. Talyon approached, feeling nothing but an utter, heavy deadness he had never experienced before. Seeing Talyon approaching, the man desperately stumbled up the slope before stopping dead in his tracks, sheer terror in his eyes as he raised his hands.
"Don't shoot, kid! Don't shoot! I give up! I surrender! Please!"
Talyon continued to walk, dead to the world except for the begging, terrified mess of a man now cowering before him. He stopped just an arm's width from the man, staring at him as he continued to beg.
"Don't shoot! Please! Don't kill me!"
The man went down on his knees, putting his hands in the air. Thinking only of his parents' final moments, Talyon continued his body's motions as if on autopilot, already seeing in his mind's eye how this moment ended. He raised the pistol, placing its muzzle against the man's head: as the man saw the pistol swing towards him, his begging became even more intense.
"PLEASE! I GIVE UP! DON'T!"
The man began to cry: Talyon felt nothing. He placed his finger inside the trigger guard: the man was now openly weeping, looking into Talyon's dead eyes with sheer terror.
"Please," he whimpered as tears streaked down his face.
The pistol's trigger broke: Talyon instinctively stiffened his arm to absorb the recoil. The man flopped lifelessly onto the ground, his forehead mangled and the entire back of his head blown out in ragged chunks. Talyon looked down at his handiwork, feeling nothing. He stood there, staring at the man's body until he heard Hoowis calling his name.
"Talyon!"
Talyon continued to stare at the dead man: he was only vaguely aware of Hoowis standing by his side.
"Talyon, did you kill this man?"
"Yes, sir. I've never killed a man before."
Hoowis knelt down in front of Talyon, putting a hand on his shoulder and looking at him reassuringly.
"Look, son, there's no shame in it."
"I know. I'm glad I killed him," Talyon said, his voice utterly emotionless.
"Talyon, look at me."
Finally, Talyon looked away from the dead man, up at Hoowis.
"What is it, Mister Hoowis?"
"It's not safe for you here. You're coming with us."
"With you?"
"Yes. You're part of the Free Kokeemi Army now."
"I'm a rebel now?"
"Yes you are, lad. Now, listen: we'll give your parents a proper burial. Then, we can sit down and talk about your future."
"My parents…"
As tears returned, Hoowis put his hand on Talyon's shoulder.
"I know, Talyon: I can never replace them. But nothing can bring them back: you're with us now. And we will take care of you, as we do all who suffer losses for our cause. You will avenge your parents: mark my words. Now, let's go."
The group walked off, Talyon taking one last look at the dead man as he left for his uncertain future. The man's eyes stared lifelessly into the sky, where a circling, braying vulture danced across his dead irises.
So, that's what it's like to kill a man…
Present day…
Horn bolted awake, gasping and panting as the world around him spun. Reassuringly, he was in his bed, the moon shining through his window.
It was just a nightmare…the same one, again. So many times, I've seen that horrible day: so many times.
He turned to his right: Siri lay next to him, fast asleep, her golden hair spread across her pillow as the moonlight gave her skin an enchanting, ethereal glow. She stirred, and then awoke; groggily brushing her loose hair out of her face before turning to Horn.
"Talyon…are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Siri."
"I sensed something: did you have a bad dream?"
"Yes," he said, looking away.
She will never know that story: as long as I live, I will never tell her. I will carry the burden of that man's death alone, all the way to my grave.
Siri put her hand on his shoulder, and he turned to face her. She gave him a reassuring look, and he responded with a lingering kiss, taking her back down onto the bed. He wanted to put the nightmare aside: to lose himself in her arms as he made love to her again.
Just for this night, forget about everything: forget about everything but the warmth of her touch…
The following morning…
The sheets rustled to his right, and Horn slowly opened his eyes: Siri sat upright next to him, stretching out and yawning before noticing he was awake.
"You up already, Tal?" she said.
"Not yet. And neither are you."
He grinned at her as he gathered her in his arms and kissed her: she let out an uncharacteristic, girlish giggle as she let him push her back onto the bed. They lay there, cuddled together under the sheets, their faces mere inches from one another.
"Siri, this is…this is lovely."
"That's all you can say?"
"It's all I can manage to say. This is wonderful…you're wonderful."
Lost in her eyes, Horn failed to notice Siri's right arm move slightly. In the next moment, he clutched at his head as the unseen hand of the Force tussled his hair.
"Hey!"
"Should have paid more attention, Tal."
She managed to poorly stifle a smile, and Horn reached for a loose pillow in response. He brought it down upon her with a playful shout; then, it stopped in midair, before she flung it back into place with the Force. As Siri smiled mischievously at him, Horn briefly thought of his parents as he looked into her eyes.
I wonder what Mother and Father would think if I brought her home, if they were still alive. A Jedi: nobody here would ever trust one. I wonder now what they might have thought of her, had they met her. But they're gone, long gone. And as I realized long ago, I don't think of her as a Jedi anymore, but as a woman: a woman I love, that feels the same way about me. Wouldn't Mother and Father be happy for me on some level? Wouldn't they?
Once again, he found himself lost in her gaze: he could tell she was in the same predicament. They could only lay there, looking at each other: a surge of warmth came over Horn as he contemplated the moment.
Just being here, laying next to her, with her in my arms and her head next to mine on my pillow: there's such closeness in this, such intimacy. Intimacy that transcends our mere physical acts of intercourse last night.
"Talyon, I need to go: I need to be up and ready before Master Adi gets up and starts wondering where I was all night."
Siri slid out of bed: Horn admired her nude body for what he knew would be the last time as she stood up and began to put her clothes on.
"You're leaving, then?" he asked.
"Yes. Obviously," she replied, immediately pausing with a regretful expression.
"I'm sorry, Talyon. I didn't mean to suggest I was ditching you."
"So you enjoyed our night, then?"
She briefly stopped dressing and locked eyes with Horn.
"Every minute of it, Talyon."
She spoke with the same determination that had drawn Horn to her in the first place: he knew she meant what she said. She continued to dress, until finally she had but to put on her jacket and walk out. She then walked back to the bed and sat down next to Horn: he reached over to his nightstand and took the blossom from earlier, tucking it behind her ear once again. He sat up, placing himself on her level as she gazed at him longingly.
"I love you, Siri. Wherever you go, I always will, and I'm glad that you came into my life," Horn said as he placed a hand on Siri's cheek.
"I love you too, Talyon," she replied, placing her hand on his and pressing it against her cheek.
Horn and Siri both held back tears: both knew that this would be the end of their only night together.
Soon, she will go back to Coruscant, and I to the peace: but whatever happens, may we never forget this.
Siri took the blossom from her ear and held it to her bosom. Horn took her in his arms and kissed her: she let out a quiet moan of passion as the two savored the moment. She put her lips to the back of his cheek: he leaned into her, trying to enjoy the warmth of her body before she left him forever.
"I'll keep it, Talyon. To remind me."
Horn tightened his embrace, running his hand through Siri's hair as she sighed: whether out of desire or sadness, he would never know.
"Five more minutes, sher'eka."
She nodded against his shoulder, and he pulled her down to the bed one last time.
A few hours later…
As Horn went through a stack of paperwork at his desk, someone knocked on his door.
"It's Kota, sir," came a voice from the other side.
"Enter," Horn replied.
Kota entered the room, carrying a cup of coffee.
"Your coffee, sir."
"Thank you."
As he stood to receive the coffee, Horn saw something on Kota's neck: a series of small red marks, spread haphazardly across strategic points on his skin. Noticing Horn looking at the marks, Kota blushed.
"Uh…it was this girl from this village, sir, she and I hit it off swell…"
"I can see that, Kota. Spare me the details: I can imagine the rest."
"Yes, sir."
Kota then glanced briefly at something near Horn's shoulder: turning to check behind him, Horn saw nothing. As he turned back to Kota with a confused look on his face, Kota smiled.
"If I may say so, sir, you look like you've been busy yourself. I see your earlobe: looks like Siri's got quite the bite, sir."
Realizing that he'd been caught as well, Horn sighed in resignation.
Damn, she must have left a mark of her own!
"Don't say anything about this, Kota."
"I won't, sir."
Kota looked around the room for a moment, and then spoke to Horn in a hushed voice.
"Did you get it, sir?"
"I did. Just follow the plan, Kota."
"I will, sir," Kota said after taking a deep breath.
"We're doing the right thing, Kota. You know that, and so do I," said Horn as he put his hand on Kota's shoulder and looked him in the eyes.
Kota paused, still looking unsure, but soon managed to smile weakly.
"I know, sir."